My Perfect Enemy
by Amser
Summary: When Sasuke finally kills Itachi, he thinks what can be more haunting than the knowledge of killing his own brother? Perhaps the fact that he's now the guardian of Itachi's children. SasuSaku
1. Chapter 1 Nightmare

Ummmies. This is re-written and I'm slightl happier with it lol.

Thought I should re-write this and the next chapter before the next TC chapter (although that's coming along okay-ishly- it got lost originally grrrr!)

So yar.

Enjoy.

My Perfect Enemy 

"_Wake up  
And face me  
Don't play dead  
'Cause maybe  
Someday   
I'll walk away and say  
You fucking disappoint me  
Maybe you're better off this way!"_

Passive- A Perfect Circe

Chapter One- Nightmare

_Blood. There was blood on the ground. Lots of blood, as if an entire body had split open and been left to empty its liquid life into the mushy earth… _

_But whose blood, whose blood was it? _

_He didn't know. He couldn't see, couldn't quite make out their features, as it seems. _

_But why was there… why was there blood on the ground?_

_He… he didn't know. Why __**was **__there blood on the ground? _

_He looked around, as if his consciousness was clearing, like the Sun through rain clouds, trying to make sense of this foreign place. He noted the landscape, the trees, the grass, the flowers, the sky… the river._

_The river. Blood was trickling into the wide river._

_Then he looked down, horror flooding his vision, his body, his soul, as his senses suddenly sharpened at the worst possible moment._

_He looked down and saw-_

Sasuke's eyes snapped open wide and alert to his hot, airless bedroom. Moonlight filtered through the open window, casting contorted shadows on the crisp, white sheet barely covering his naked flesh. Despite the heat, goose pimples tingled his skin.

He stared at the plain, empty ceiling, wide eyed. His hazy mind attempted to make sense of that strange, ambiguous, yet vivid dream.

_Blood_. All he could recall was crimson, metallic, congealing …

_Blood. _Blood on a muddy ground, blood tainting the air, blood leaking into a gushing river...

_Blood on my hands. _

The last of the Uchiha Clan sighed low and heavy, closing his tired eyes for just a moment before sitting up and brushing the sheet away from his torso. The moonlight spilled over his handsome features, his bare chest… and the body resting beside his.

Sasuke's soft gaze lazily fell longingly on the young woman sprawled alongside him. Her pink hair was messy and dishevelled against the starch white pillow, making it seem all the more vibrant than before. Sakura laid on her stomach, spent and beautiful in the encompassing moonlight, giving her an ironically innocent, angelic quality.

His rough hand smoothed the skin along her spine tenderly, his fingertips barely touching her supple skin, and yet she shivered even in that deep, blissful sleep.

Sasuke removed his hand, his eyes gazing at her surprisingly melancholy, pensively... As if she were something distant and unobtainable. Which of course, she wasn't, but he still felt she was. Even when they had made love, just a couple of short hours ago, he still felt as if she was a million miles away, that he was further than she could ever reach. He didn't understand why. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to understand why.

He sighed; breathing out her name so soft it was barely a whisper.

Sakura did not stir.

Sasuke leapt out of bed, rearranging the thin sheet so it covered Sakura's smooth, unbearably tempting back. The air was warm and tantalising against his taught skin, momentarily soothing the bitter coldness that froze him so agonizingly inside.

Quietly, he stepped towards the sliding door, applying just enough measured pressure so it slid open, slow and soundlessly. He slipped through the shoji screens, not bothering to close them behind him.

Inside, it was silent throughout the Uchiha Estate. Ghostly silent.

Sasuke closed his eyes. If he listened intently enough, he could still hear the lingering slithers of conversations and sounds held within the walls, their echoes encased in the shojis screens, and floors and windows and ceiling… as if the house were clinging desperately to those withering memories.

Moonlight spilled through the glass windows along the hallway, giving the ancient floorboards a calm blue hue. The air smelt pure and peaceful, like nighttime air should. The sounds he could hear were the usual night sounds; the cricket's hum, the shouts and taunts from people leaving the local pubs, the occasional howl of a dog in the distance.

He made his way through what would seem a labyrinth of identical corridors, his footsteps light and sure, until Sasuke stopped outside a particular room, a room he had until recently avoided like the plague.

Itachi's old room was as it was all that time ago. Exactly as it was. It was immaculate, just as he always was. The bed hadn't been slept in for years, the pine shelves had collected an appalling layer of musty dust, which was hardly surprising as even in the moonlight Sasuke could see the millions of tiny dust particles floating in and out of the light in an ongoing stream of dull sparkles. Even the hired cleaner didn't go in this room.

Sasuke watched his brother's room, this neglected room, standing in the doorway. Already he could smell his brother, even if it had been nearly fifteen years since that man had inhabited it. This was the last of his brother, what was left in this room. Day by day since Sasuke had come here, the smell, the essence of his brother had grown weaker and weaker. He never went in, even now.

Especially now.

He understood why he couldn't before, and perfectly well understood why he couldn't now. He just refused to believe it. He openly denied it. And nobody expected him of it. Everyone saw it as the correct solution- the end of a sickening nightmare.

But being the last of a once large family like the Uchiha was an unsurprisingly daunting prospect. Although many would say he the last as soon as Itachi had murdered them all, those many years ago…

Sasuke smiled, not a warm smile, but a cold, ironic smile.

_If that's true, then why does this feel like a worse nightmare…? _It made him sick to think it. To even consider it… but that was not enough to banish it from his thoughts.

Glancing around the familiar room one last time, Uchiha Sasuke turned and headed back to bed.

* * *

_**Three weeks later**_

* * *

It was cold. The weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and now gale force winds and lashing rain were assaulting the village.

It was on this very day, that a group of three people entered Konohagakure, two of them for the first time in their young lives. The other was a lady in her late fifties, who had been here many years before when she was child nearly as young as the two children she was escorting. For what she had been there for, she couldn't remember.

The weather was inconceivable. No one could understand where these horrendous conditions were coming from; it was as if they'd been conjured right above the village, under the darkness of night.

Rain plummeted down, hitting the surrounding buildings in millions of thunderous echoes. The sky was a harsh greyish-black, and the odd crackle of thunder briefly penetrated the moronic pitter-patter of tumbling raindrops. The flashes of bright lightening shortly followed, making the lamplights flicker as the extra electricity surged through them.

The old woman gripped the wrists of the two children, causing one to grip her hand tight, and the other to frown in protest. They were both dressed in travelling clothes, which consisted of thick black cotton kimono tops and trousers with a black hooded cloak; she didn't really approve of them wearing the same outfits generally, but this wasn't the time to worry about that.

They rushed along the streets, none truly knowing where they were headed. They reached what you might call the High Street, as it seemed. And taking their chances, the lady yanked the two children into a nearby pub. It was busy, and she was worried they'd scamper off if she left them to their own devices, especially the girl.

As they pushed their way to the barman, the children curiously laid eyes on the people of the village, people they were soon to see nearly everyday. No one gave them a second look. But perhaps if they had been aware of their heritage, then maybe they would.

Finally, the lady battled her way to the front, proving she was a force to be reckoned with. To the children this place seemed completely alien. They were not used to the towering bodies, the suffocating heat and loud jaunts and jeers from the people above. It was noisy and hot and they didn't like it one bit. The little girl inched closer to her brother.

"Oi, no brats at the bar," The barman said shortly, glaring venomously at the children.

"Oh, so what should I do with them? Tie them up outside to a lamppost the in pouring rain?" The children's guardian snapped back, her sharp brows furrowing menacingly.

The barman shrugged. "Just get 'em out, love. I got a reputation to keep, most of these people are here to _avoid _children,"

"They won't be any trouble," She growled, shooting a glare that could easily make a dragon whimper. "I only need directions,"

"Well where do you want to go?"

She told him, and he respectively told her where to go. As they were leaving the pub, the little girl waved to him on the way out.

* * *

Despite being given sound instructions, Konohagakure was an awful place to navigate unless you knew it. Not to mention the torrential rain didn't help much.

It was a good twenty odd minutes later when they found their way, halting outside a huge, ominous house. A fan, a fan of white and red was painted across the door. The children stared at it.

"Come on," The woman ushered them onto the porch and they both followed suit, obediently.

They watched her take a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door.

"Coming!" A feminine voice shouted from inside, the voice was muffled, but it sounded kind and cheerful.

The little girl's hand tightened on the lady's hand.

There was a brief click before the door swung open, revealing a tall, pretty, roseate young woman, wearing what the children would soon learn to be "Jounin Clothes". She smiled, her bright eyes glancing at each of them questionably.

"Can I help you?"

"Do you know an "Uchiha Sasuke"?" The children's guardian asked quickly. Her hard eyes narrowed.

The young woman nodded vigorously. "I do, but he's not here at the moment, he shouldn't be long," She paused, as if deliberating what to say next. "Would you like to wait for him in here or come back later?"

"We would like to wait here for him to come back, if it's no inconvenience, of course,"

The woman waved her hand, and stepped to the side, allowing them passage.

"No, no, not at all,"

The three huddled in through the doorway, the children automatically removed their coats and shoes, and the young Kunoichi gasped at their soaking wet hair and clothes, saying she'd find them a towel. She offered one to their carer, but she politely declined.

The three stood silently in the hallway, the boy returned his sister's nervous glances with his own cool, collected ones.

They said thank you as the pretty lady handed them their towels.

"My name is Sakura, by the way," She said offhandedly. "Would you like some tea?"

"My name is Junko, and thank you, but I'm fine." She looked down at the children, first at the girl and then the boy. "This is Miyuki, and this is Haruki,"

Sakura smiled. " It's nice to meet you both, would you like something to eat or drink?"

"No thank you," They murmured in unison. Sakura noted how the girl smiled, and the boy remained impassive.

They all wandered to the reception room and sat down. The rain lashed at the windows and the wind rustled the trees in the garden.

"Disgusting weather, isn't it?" Sakura said, a little strained. She looked over at the woman across the table, taking note of her formidable appearance. Her eyes were sharp and black, black like her wavy, brittle, dull hair. It was obvious the colour was fake; she looked too old to have hair like that. Her skin was tanned and weathered from a relentless life; the wrinkles and blemishes clear for all to see. She was wearing a faded purple kimono with darker purple obi. One time, she must have been beautiful.

"Yes, just dismal, isn't it?"

"Hmm," Sakura agreed, surveying the children, taking in their haunting appearances. She couldn't stop staring at them. Their dark hair, dark eyes, facial features… Her gut feeling was screaming it at her, but she didn't know what to think. "Does Sasuke know you?"

Junko's head whipped to hers. "No,"

"So you don't know him?"

Junko shook her head. The children were watching Sakura, their midnight eyes dazzling in the room's soft light.

"Are they your children?"

"No,"

The little girl smiled. "Junko-San is taking care of us," Her voice was sweet and lyrical, but all the same time very matter-of-fact. "We don't know Uchiha Sasuke either, but our Daddy did, he's-" The boy threw her a warning glare, and she bit her lip in admonition.

Junko chuckled. "Miyuki-Chan is a chatterbox,"

"I see," Sakura chuckled too, staring at the boy curiously. "And Haruki-Chan-" His eyebrow twitched as she added the honorific to his name, "-isn't a chatterbox?"

Haruki frowned, and Junko laughed, as Miyuki pouted and remarked proudly that her brother was far too grumpy and rude to be a chatterbox.

Sakura was laughing too, but it wasn't whole-hearted laughter. She was desperate to ask why they were here, but deemed that to be something rather rude. And so Sakura being Sakura, decided to sit awkwardly until Sasuke arrived home.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. The sound of an opening door and sudden gush of bitter wind proved as much.

"I'm home," He called from the hallway. "We have guests?"

Sakura noticed Miyuki's petite hands grip the table, whilst Haruki sat more rigidly than before. Their hair hid their eyes, but she was sure they were strained wide. Miyuki's were, anyway.

"Yes, welcome home, we're in the Reception Room,"

They all heard him walking towards the room. A tension lying dormant once before now engulfed the room, mainly emanating from the children. It was the type that lingered before you were about to fling yourself into enemy territory, where death or interrogation was sure if you were caught. Miyuki was almost shaking, until Junko noticed and tapped her arm, perhaps a little harder than she should have, making the girl jump, and throwing her head up.

Less than a second later, Sasuke stepped through the threshold. He looked tall and intimidating in his ANBU uniform, his hair dripped wet on the tatami mats. His eyes swivelled to each of the unfamiliar faces, locking with Miyuki's as she stared, fascinated and bewildered into his. Her face quickly turned red and she whipped her head down to the table, looking embarrassed beyond belief.

His breath hitched for a second as she turned away. His gaze rested on the boy, and then the woman.

"Good Afternoon…?" He turned to Sakura enquiringly, but Junko was up before she could get a word in edgeways.

"Uchiha Sasuke?" She asked, suddenly impatient.

He nodded, face blank.

"My name is Junko," She began, purely professionally. "And these children, I have been entrusted with, I believe to be your Nephew and Niece, Uchiha Haruki and Miyuki, you're their only living relative and are therefore their legal guardian, and I am under strict instruction that they are to be placed into your care,"

Sasuke blinked. "Excuse me?"

* * *

He felt sick. Sick to the stomach. So sick he could barely reply again when Junko repeated those cruel words.

Sakura was up on her feet within moments.

"But there must be a mistake…?" She stepped beside him and her hand groped for his, casting a worried look as his skin paled frightfully.

Junko scowled, one bony hand reaching into her obi and yanking out two documents; Birth Certificates.

Sakura took them, head spinning with disbelief. Sasuke merely stared at the children, who were either too embarrassed or too terrified to look back at him.

Sakura's stomach sank to the floor. There. It was there right before her in elaborate, professional handwriting:

_**Father's Name: Uchiha Itachi**_

She looked for the Doctor's signature, and made a mental note. Seeing as this was a legal binding document, this man must been registered at some hospital or clinic. Otherwise it wouldn't be legal. It was a Fire Country Document, so he must have records somewhere in the country.

She glanced at the other one, noticing the birth date was the same.

"They're twins?"

_Eight-years-old._

"Yes, Haruki's a whole three hundred seconds older than Miyuki," Junko spat, clearly annoyed at the fuss they were making. "Anyway, I have a very tight schedule, I must leave soon-"

"_What?"_ Sakura snarled, low and whispered but dangerous. "Do you have any idea whose children they are-"

"I don't care whose children they are. I don't care. That's irrelevant to me. What is relevant is whether those children are safe and in a secure environment, both of which they haven't been in since their Father disappeared four weeks ago. This is where we have been instructed to go, and if and only when you have had as much experience as I have in this line of Work, you say to me they won't benefit from staying with a blood-relative, then and only then I might consider listening to you," She paused, and turned to Sasuke, who was still staring at the identical children. "They will be all right here, won't they?"

He sighed, not looking at her, his stomach threatening to give way.

"How the hell can I refuse them now?"

"I'll be off now, I can see myself out, goodbye children," She didn't pause for their goodbyes. "I'll be checking in a few months,"

"B-but hold on," Sakura raced after her, blindly. "Why weren't we notified by this before you came here?"

"Well, Firstly: the suddenness of their Father's disappearance and the fact they have had no where else to stay." She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, placing her long fingered hand on the doorknob, twisting it so it slipped open. "And Secondly: They're talented, and you know what kind of world we live in." She nodded at Sakura's uniform. "Now their belongings will be arriving shortly; don't worry, they haven't much. Until next time, good day."

And she was gone.

Sakura vowed they'd be receiving a very,_ very_ disagreeable letter.

* * *

Sasuke didn't bother following Junko out like Sakura did. He didn't see the point. Instead, he moved slowly towards the table, taking a seat directly opposite the children. In all his years as an ANBU and Ninja for that matter, he'd been taught to govern his feelings. Not showing weakness or awkwardness should have been easy. He was damn good at it too. So why was he finding it so hard to behave like a shinobi in front of eight-year-olds?

It took him a little time to realise they were both scrutinising him, like a cat would a mouse.

His eyes looked from one to another, a thump like a drum smashing against his crown. He swallowed, hoping they wouldn't notice. Their resemblance to Itachi was more than striking.

Suddenly, the girl, Miyuki began to tremble, glistening tears welling in her large, pretty eyes. Sasuke was completely taken off guard as she raced around to his side of the table and flung herself into his arms. Her little arms wrapped around his neck possessively, and it took him a moment or so to reciprocate.

"I didn't think you-I thought you-that you were-" she sniffed and coughed and cried into his grey ANBU top, relentlessly. Sasuke marvelled at her little body, that pale, ashen skin, her long, shiny, silky black tresses… her almond-shaped eyes. She pressed her head into his chest again.

His hands didn't know what to do. They were spread open, but held rigid and to move seemed so difficult, too awkward. Then he remembered she wasn't the only child he'd rendered parentless.

_Shit, the boy. _

Sasuke looked up from Miyuki, only to be startled by the boy, this defiant, impish little boy, was no longer staring at the varnished table. He was the spitting image of Itachi, except his skin was just as pale as Miyuki's. Had his hair been longer and expression not fixed in a blank frown, then he could pass for his sister.

Haruki glared at him, the dark mocking, cynicism radiated from his deep eyes into Sasuke's, somewhat disturbingly. His damp fringe fell into his eyes slightly, framing them, adding to their menacing glower. He observed Sasuke and his sister with no fear. No fear what so ever.

Anger began to swell in the space between them. Sasuke hated the boy's arrogance already. Not to mention he was Itachi's child. Had the boy given a… _similar_ reaction to Miyuki's then maybe there was some hope between them? Unfortunately, Sasuke got the impression that wasn't ever going to happen.

And then, as the boy stood to accompany his sister, a sudden realisation flooded over Sasuke.

He knew. The brat bloody knew.

Sasuke killed his elder brother four weeks ago. He killed their _Father _four weeks ago.

…

Please Review. Ta.


	2. Chapter 2 Raindrops

Argh. Reread that sodding first chapter and still hate it. GRRR.

I **despise** that chapter.

So I hope this one's not as disappointing.

* * *

**My Perfect Enemy**

"_When the sun shines_

_We'll shine more than ever,_

_Told you I'll be here forever_

_Said I'll always be your friend,_

_Took an oath_

_I'mma stick it out 'till the end_

_Now that it's raining more than ever,_

_Know that we'll still have each other,_

_You can stand under my umbrella,_

_You can stand under my umbrella,"_

Rihanna- Umbrella

**Chapter Two- Raindrops  
**

* * *

_They're his._

The concept swept through Sasuke's consciousness, ceasing any other coherent thoughts, haunting and terrorising his mind at a sickening level. It suddenly seemed as if he had only just realised that the child clinging to his neck was his brother's daughter, and that the child standing next to them, observing them, was his brother's son.

_Itachi's children. And the boy knows. Oh shit, oh… __**fuck,**__ the boy knows…_

He didn't look at the boy. The shame and sadness of killing his brother was already eating away at his soul. To look directly into that child's eyes now would slaughter all that was left of the pitiful justification Sasuke had clung onto for dear Life.

_I've basically done to them what he did to me. _How could he live with himself now? He had to take them in and give them shelter. A home. Maybe even a family again? _What kind of family am __**I**__? I haven't the right anymore to be their family. _

But he was their family; no matter what he'd done to them they were still his responsibility. He knew this and the thought ate away at him, rotted him from the core, but beyond all that, he'd also realised something else: the bi-products of his brother and some woman were only millimetres away, and their sudden existence meant he was not the last of his clan…

_That I am not alone…_

His fingertips brushed his niece's hair, momentarily pausing to marvel at its silken feel, at its length and familiarity to a texture he had once felt in this very room, from a time he was forever straining so hard to remember. His eyes fleeted around the room, surprised to find how much brighter it seemed to be, how less stagnant the air had become, all from the mere touch of a little girl's tresses, and the comforting warmth her delicate body produced.

Sasuke breathed in her smell, registering the sweet fragrance- the scent of innocence, dulled only slightly by her damp clothes. Again, she smelt familiar, distantly familiar, and it felt like simply her presence could help revive old memories of days Sasuke had lost through tragedy. He held her tight, both fascinated and saddened at the old shards of smashed recollections suddenly fitting back into place, rekindling an inner-fire previously snuffed out by years of loneliness and hatred.

Sensing a flurry of movement, his eyes shot to the door, revealing a traumatised Sakura leaning on the frame for support. The colour in her cheeks dropped at the sight of the infant Uchihas, one standing on his own, regarding her curiously, the other locked in an unyielding embrace with the man she loves.

Sasuke swivelled his glance towards Haruki, eyes narrowing minutely as he tried to read the boy's pokerfaced expression, a façade he'd seen far too much of for his liking already.

The boy was returning his new Aunt's awkward gaze with a cool, patient impassiveness, standing still as if he were either not sure of what to do himself, or waiting for her to do or say what she needed to, the latter of which seemed the correct scenario, as Sakura lifted her head to Sasuke, meek-faced.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," She said quietly, sounding both physically and mentally exhausted all at once.

Sasuke nodded slightly, but shot her a look of concern as she turned away, heading for the kitchen with stricken steps. How could someone's demeanour crumble so terribly in just a few short minutes? It was a harsh surprise to say the least, but it surely wasn't quite as distressing as Sakura's mood put forward?

Well, to tell the truth, as he stroked little Miyuki's raven tresses, Sasuke didn't feel all too uncomfortable about having a niece and nephew- they were, after all, family, and not their father.

No one could be their father- no one could ever be what Itachi was… He had already silently decided this- that neither of them, not even Haruki could ever be capable of treading in his ghastly brother's bloody footprints. Uchiha Itachi's legacy was never to be redeemed and Sasuke would make it his sole priority, if need be. I'd rather take my life than ever see that happen a second time. 

Miyuki stirred quietly in his arms, drawing Sasuke's attention when her tiny body stepped away from his, and a fragile hand clutched his shirtsleeve as she peered around the room. Her wide eyes located Haruki in seconds, and as they both stared at each other silent words fell between them, ending with their pretty faces lit by divine little smiles.

Sasuke watched as the children grinned, fascinated at how open and trusting their expressions were. Never had a moment like that had passed between him and their father. There was a time when Itachi had been brotherly and kind, and gentle, and patient… But never had he been trusting. Not even to Sasuke. Itachi had had enough harmful secrets to fill an ocean with the tears of the ones who loved him, but now, as Sasuke observed the actions of just one of those many secrets, he was sure there was nothing left unsaid between the children. The trust flowing between them was like second nature. Their love for one another was returned on the deepest of levels and nothing would ever destroy that bond they shared.

Of that, Sasuke was a hundred percent sure.

He smiled slightly, still watching their contentment. _I'm jealous, _He admitted, realising that this is what his and Itachi's fraternal relationship had been deprived of. There had never been any true trust. Never any true love. And by understanding this, it made Sasuke all the more sure that they could never be Itachi.

_Not even the boy. _He could not deny the reassurance was a welcome relief, but he could not understand how or why he felt it so easy to pass judgement over his nephew and niece. He knew virtually nothing of them, just of their father, and then the rest was a mystery. He wondered what a life them must have lived before they came here. How much of Itachi did they see? How was he as a father? What was their mother like? How _much_ did they know? The latter of which could mean anything, he supposed.

"_How much do they know of Itachi's and Akatsuki's motives?" _That, Sasuke could predict, would be the main question asked. Word of the twin's arrival would spread through Konoha like a plague once he had spoken with the Hokage- something he knew he couldn't ignore much longer. This situation should have been reported at once.

Sakura will mention it; the moment she comes back in she'll insist on seeing that damned bitch… And with his head swimming with all these thoughts Sasuke failed notice Miyuki's bright eyes and sweet voice. 

"Sorry, Miyuki-Chan, what did you say?"

The little girl blinked for a second, then repeated her words. "Shall I go and help Sakura-San with the tea, Uncle?"

Uncle… 

He wondered for a second whether it would be wiser to leave Sakura alone for a while, but he couldn't imagine Sakura doing anything harmful towards Miyuki. Maybe it would speed things along a bit? "Yeah, go ahead…" Besides, he had an urge to speak to Haruki alone. He had a feeling he could _only_ speak with Haruki alone.

Miyuki smiled warmly and left the room with barely a sound, her step light and long hair swaying behind her with the momentum. Before disappearing, she glanced nervously once more to her brother, who nodded, prompting her along, reassuring her everything would be fine, smiling that same smile that kept hers intact. It never seemed to disappoint.

My, how different Haruki looks when he smiles! The boy's endless frowning and scowling aged him pitilessly, forcing people to look beyond those short eight years to see nothing more than a contemptuous little runt with a viciously precocious attitude. He's seen too much of the world already to think it's a happy or fair place. He's seen through that lie a thousand times, and it shows, it shows through those wickedly smouldering, passionate eyes, rimmed with a deadly set of thick, curving eyelashes. Through them, Sasuke has deduced that the boy does not look through them as a child anymore. Haruki looks through them as an adult, however ridiculous an air that sounds for an eight-year-old; Sasuke knew it was true, for he'd seen the same contortion of childhood through the eyes of himself.

* * *

"Oh God, oh god… oh fuck, fuck, _fuck_…" Sakura cupped her face with shaking hands as she leant against the kitchen countertop, unable to trust her legs to stay solid. The tears prickled her eyes, but she resisted, knowing she'd have to keep composed for the sake of Sasuke. _Oh, why is this happening? Why is it happening now?_

Sasuke hadn't been right for days. He moped around the house, becoming as dreary and lifeless as the hundreds of unused rooms throughout this damned estate. For years, they'd collected a musty, thick layering of dust, becoming nothing but unkempt and forgotten.

Sasuke's state of mind had managed to form that dusty concept in only a few days.

His heart had soured so quickly every other part of him could barely keep up. His silent depression had manifested into something far more damaging and soon he became cold and jaded towards everything. Right now, he was a mere inch away from tumbling into an abyss he has no chance of escaping. He shied from any social interaction and rarely ventured out the house, choosing to not see anything beyond the dust and neglect. People came and people went, all worried and distressed for him, all shocked to realise that this pitiful creature is what he'd become. Naruto visited everyday, without fail, and was miraculously able to bring his contagious, sunshine-blond bounciness into the dead house, dulling the deafening silence. But of course, that was to be expected of such an extraordinary man. Often, Kakashi joined them, just to attempt to remind Sasuke that he wasn't alone, and that what had passed was simply meant to be.

"_Perhaps it's finally happening, perhaps Sasuke will break down and finally accept what Fate has given him? Perhaps he can forget what happened in the past and simply look towards the future?" _For hours they'd sat and discussed the state of Sasuke's future, hoping to find the strength and ability to support him through this horribly necessary time in life. He was agonisingly lonely, and everyone one of his teammates could appreciate what that had felt like at least once…

Sasuke had even had a taster already, but this was worse, much, much worse, as the loneliness was tinged with a guilt and self-loathing the young Uchiha couldn't forget.

In so many respects, Sasuke was a late bloomer. His emotional well-being was halted at the very stage it should have been left to grow and expand- and now, as he'd obliterated what had held that development back, his mind was undoubtedly suffering the heavy repercussions.

It grated on their relationship. The flaming passion he and Sakura shared had whittled down to nothing more than a dying an ember, and Sakura dreaded to think how much more of his contagious depression she could push aside. To a woman whose love for him was practically obsession, this was the mightiest blow of them all. The deepest wish in her quivering heart was for him to be the Sasuke she'd always love for a thousand lifetimes. The one she'd seen from day to day was nothing but a shadow, just a pathetic waste of a once great man.

_How can I think of Sasuke like that? _It broke her heart to feel the loathing this mess had caused to seep into her dearest feelings for Sasuke. It twisted her love, twisted _their _love, and she hated that wicked brother of his more than any person could ever suspect.

_Everything's his fault! Everything that's happened to Sasuke is because of him and I hate him- him and everything that's associated with him for what he's done to my Sasuke!_

Uchiha Itachi's mark on Sasuke would forever mar the younger brother's life. Sasuke would never be free, never be able to forgive or forget. The two children in the reception room were just another clear indication of this, and Sakura, as much as her very being screamed and wailed at the injustice, could doing nothing but despise them for it.

_Why aren't they ours? _She'd known for years her husband desired a family and had known for sometime now it would be the perfect way to coax him out of the dangerous misery he'd given into. But now that idea was tainted, tainted like every other idea he'd cherished, by that _bastard. _

_Why can't he leave him alone? He's done enough! _Sakura screamed inside until her head throbbed. She felt the anger for Sasuke bubble over and turn her vision red. The timing of it all was hopeless and all she wanted to do was curl into a little ball and scream her frustration.

Even beyond the grave, Itachi was pulling the strings, clearly exploiting his brother's kindness and guilt for his own gain. And the timing as usual was impeccable.

_Not at a time like this… not now…not now…_

"H-he can't… not now…please, please… not now," Sakura sobbed and bit her lip in frustration, no longer able to fight the tears she'd been concealing so painfully for the past three weeks.

The kettle rumbled beside her, but she didn't care. It was just an excuse to get out of that damned room, anyway. She doubted Sasuke wanted tea. He was too interested in those miserable children to care.

The moment she'd returned from the hallway to see he and the girl locked in a tight embrace had been like a kunai ripping into her chest. The expression on his face was something akin to relief and wonderment, an emotion so honest and basic for Sasuke she hardly believed her eyes. That they could affect him so easily was disturbing, and she wasn't comfortable with it at all.

Her tears streamed harder; she was unable to accept how easily those children had changed him- changed _her_ Sasuke in a fleeting moment, whereas she could hardly brush the surface of his emotionally perverse, self-centred heart.

Heart- ha! What fucking heart? 

The Clan, the Clan… All it was was that fucking CLAN, CLAN, CLAN. Sasuke had no heart; just his sodding Clan. With Itachi he had some remnants of a Clan. Shitty ones, but still there was something salvageable. He had a Clan to avenge, to save and to agonise over.

_Bastard, bastard, bastard! _Sakura screamed inside, feeling the agony of yet another, more subtle rejection tears her entrails to shreds. Why, if there could be a Clan to avenge, could there not be a Clan to _rebuild_? _Damn, fucking, tricky WANKER!_

It's what he wanted. He'd said it himself more times than anyone could remember. Whilst hunting Itachi, it seemed to consume his thoughts, often a plus side for Sakura.

But then it all turned wrong, so horribly, horribly wrong…

"You're a fucking selfish wanker, Uchiha Sasuke, and you don't even know it," She whispered in despair to her soggy palms, suddenly feeling much better with herself at finally announcing the thought aloud- even if it was to a brick wall.

For the past few weeks she and Sasuke had been having sex, a _reasonable_ amount of sex, and to be fair to the poor sap he was as good as ever. No questions _there, _except… He wasn't enjoying it, and that, of course, had an adverse affect on Sakura's enjoyment. Well, more than her enjoyment, her confidence took a terrible blow and not to mention every other sexual situation just got worse and worse. It had finally become a "duty". This sex was nothing more than a duty his deformed heart had convinced him he was solely responsible for. It was his purpose now, and he seemed to accept it so willingly.

As soon as he'd arrived home from that accursed errand Sasuke was soaked in baby-baby-baby-lets-shag-like-rabbits-until-Sakura's-knocked-up-mode. Pity it hadn't worked. Pity she hadn't conceived. Maybe he'd have changed back after that- become the Sasuke everyone loved and despised. Not the Sasuke everyone pitied.

Sakura was no imbecile; she'd seen the horrid self-loathing and despair discolouring his face the moment he'd waked home, but she hadn't the heart to confront him- especially when his hands and lips were turning her raw with desire up against the kitchen countertop. It was a cruel contrast, the biological needs were as fulfilled as ever, but the emotional side of things left so much to be desired.

So much, it was like Sakura's heart had rotted down to a foul, gangrene void in the middle of her chest. And it was spreading, spreading to every cell and consuming every happy thought she could muster.

Uchiha Sasuke truly was the most selfish bastard to ever be born.

Feeling the last of her good nature crumple, Sakura growled through her sobs, swung round and smashed a chakra-laden fist into the kitchen countertop she'd previously been leaning on. A satisfying crackle burst from the crumpled surface and minuscule shards of broken wood sprung into the air, soon to litter the floor. The stress relief was imminent, and she felt a small, hopeless smile curve her lips.

What would Sasuke say to this? _Nothing, probably…_

She placed a pair of shaking hands on the splintered countertop, steadying herself, suddenly fearful of the hysterical babble threatening to choke her like an accidentally swallowed throat lozenge. The tears etched red scorch marks along her cheeks and she raised a hand to her lips, as if to keep them bolted shut.

_Pathetic, isn't it? Allowing a man to make you feel this way. _He could manipulate her body and mind like a puppeteer, but his hands weren't even holding the strings. It was an unspeakably useful talent- this wicked control he possessed over the people he loved.

But through her traumatised state Sakura failed to notice the patter of tiny feet in the corridor outside, steeping so eager and merrily; oblivious to her new Aunt's feelings of frustrated bitterness.

Miyuki had watched with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation as Sakura crushed a massive, V-shaped dent into the wooden countertop. As soon as she'd seen it, the little girl's intuition told her to leave and wander back to the man who in nearly every way reminded her of father. Malice and chakra buzzed around the room like some nefarious rain cloud, and every sense in her little body told her get away. But she didn't run away. She was glued to the spot, against all her better judgements.

Concern swelled in her chest, as Sakura sobbed and wept like she hadn't a friend in the world. She wasn't sure what to do, bless. A little girl comforting a distraught woman? Surely it should be the other way round?

_Oh well. _She mused, and took the first courageous step towards the volatile Sakura.

"Sa… Sakura-San?" She whispered, hoping her quiet voice would carry through the sobs.

The young woman carried on crying.

Miyuki stopped dead in her tracks, studying Sakura from the side. She repeated her words, and somehow, she registered them.

Slowly, Sakura raised her head, eyes lifting gradually from the ground as if holding off the moment until she'd have to gaze at the owner of that sweet, melodic voice. From the unmistakable look of horror splashed like acid across the medic's face Miyuki understood then that to interrupt Sakura had been a terrible mistake.

Miyuki, taken back by the force of the look, subconsciously took a step back.

_Run run! _Anannoying, yet surprisingly useful voice in the back of her premature head wailed, but her feet were rooted to the ground. She'd been caught in the vice-like glare of a basilisk, and suddenly, she caved.

"St-stop it," A single, frightened tear trickled down her pale cheek. More stung behind her dark eyes, but she was too afraid to shed them. Fear of this woman held her like a helpless prisoner. "P-pl… Please,"

Sakura glared, completely swamped with painful fury. Her heart beat in her throat, her eyes, her chest, as if a surge of adrenalin were sweeping through her body. She wanted to hit the little witch, smack her black and blue for being _his _and not Sasuke's. Her arms were trembling with the thought and her legs were about to give way any second. Her mind was set, yet her body refused to do its bidding. Tears of fury flowed freer than ever, and she hated herself even more for her lack of discipline and indecision.

"Damnit!" She cursed breathily as her legs finally turned to mush. She landed on the floor, a shaking wreck, still watching the girl, still trapping her with scrutiny.

Miyuki jumped right out her skin as Sakura tumbled to the floor, emitting a tiny, terror-dulled gasp. Her horrified eyes collided with a rage they'd never seen before, and- and…

And then it hit Sakura harder than any brick wall, harder than a block of ice, harder than a slap in the face from the ones she loved. Harder, even so, than a rejection from Sasuke.

_What the hell am I doing?_

Shame filled her eyes and clogged her throat. Strange to think how many different tears one could shed, isn't it?

Looking at the petrified little girl in front of her, Sakura felt nothing but terrible shame. Firstly, shame for the awful thoughts and unfair convictions she'd accused the little girl mentally. But secondly, and probably more disgustingly, she felt ashamed for the tears she'd caused the child to spill, for the shake in her little bones.

Really, what was she like, blaming all her miseries on those children? She couldn't possibly understand what they'd been through in the past couple of weeks, could she? Who was she to judge and despise them for such an unjustified reason like that?

_You're a shameful beast, Sakura. _

"I-I'm sorry!" She wailed, finally finding her voice, and cried harder than ever before. Her eyes clouded and blurred, but she made out the child's expression of relieved kindness after the terror was lifted. "I-I… I didn't… didn't mean…"

Miyuki shook her head and smiled, then stepped towards Sakura with a soft hand ready to hold hers.

* * *

Haruki eyed his Uncle with the skilled gaze of a primed analytical predator. Despite his early years, he had inherited his father's keen ability to read and understand people in an instant. Piece by piece, he would dissect them, practically read their thoughts, and exploit their feelings.

Sometimes, he did it as necessity, and other times he did it for fun.

Although, he wasn't quite sure what to class sizing-up Uchiha Sasuke as- was it fun or necessary? Maybe it was a little of both?

_It's not relevant, anyway. _He thought and dismissed in the inner argument. Truth be told, he knew Sasuke's type from the moment he laid eyes on the man. Haruki had not been sure whether it truly was Sasuke who had killed Itachi, but after all that palaver, he'd made his guilt perfectly clear. Got in an instant. The man horrified to know of them, let a lone see them and touch them.

_How easily he gave it away… _It was a real disappointment, actually. He' d have thought the brother of his father to be more of a challenge than that. _Perhaps it's because he's unguarded at the moment? He's in his own house, and we're __**family**_- Haruki sneered at this thought- _so why should he feel threatened by us?_

The boy was perplexed; the man intrigued him, worried him, and disgusted him. Uchiha Sasuke was a great many things to Uchiha Haruki, but one of them, it seemed, was not "enigmatic".

Miyuki's light pitter-patter could still be distinguished from the hallway above the tens and thousand of tumbling raindrops.

Sasuke kept his eyes rested on the space where she'd been, collecting his thoughts, regrouping his senses. For a moment, the deep breath he took felt like the first, life-saving breath one takes before they drown or suffocate. His tongue and throat were dry, like he'd swallowed sad without water. The boy was sat a little way from him, darker and more imposing than any eight-year-old should ever be.

_He reminds me of me, and of _you. Indeed, Haruki was like a carbon copy of the Uchiha brothers. Should only be natural, shouldn't it? But it wasn't. The child with piercing, opaque, owl-like eyes should never be like that, just as he and Itachi should never have been. Haruki should be as innocent and oblivious as his sister; should be like any other eight-year-old, laughing and screaming with joy and not a care in the world.

He truly was an Uchiha, poor child.

A loud, splintering crash echoed down the hallway, making both their heads snap up in alarm. Sasuke registered the surge of chakra instantly, and swiftly leapt to his feet. Silently, he cursed himself for underestimating Sakura's mood. She was a volatile creature sometimes, with quite the temper and occasional lapses of rationale. The idea of Sakura hurting the child was ridiculous, but a thousand thoughts were assaulting Sasuke all at once, so he acted on instinct and rushed to the door.

He didn't get very far.

"Wait," Haruki said coolly from behind him, "There's no need to worry,"

Sasuke halted in mid-step, his eyes darting sideways towards the younger Uchiha. His face was a pale, unreadable blank mask, but all the while his voice had been reassuring with its sureness.

"There's no need to worry," He repeated in the same tone, and shook his head slightly. "She wouldn't harm her,"

Again, the confidence in his young voice was reassuring. Sasuke turned around and leaned on the doorframe, still staring at those pebble-like eyes.

Haruki had read Sakura in an instant too. His judgement was rarely wrong. But perhaps his judgement of Sasuke was. Now, at his full height, clad in the formidable ANBU uniform, Sasuke looked considerably different. Haruki began to mould the concept of Sasuke's career, and suddenly the personality slot into place. He'd been very capable of killing his brother, no matter what, that was plain to see. The satisfaction and hatred _was_ there, it was just simply hidden under the many layers that formed this man.

Inwardly, Haruki smirked. So Sasuke was quite "enigmatic" after all.

The rain whipped against the windows and the wind became more violent, now lashing and tearing through the Konoha trees like some furious, snarling beast. There would be soggy green leaves clogging the streets of Konoha tomorrow morning.

No more sound came from along the hallway, and Haruki was proved right. Sakura would never do something so uncharacteristically thoughtless like harming Miyuki. Her heart and conscience were too kind.

Haruki's thoughts cast back worriedly to his sister. She was too immature, always too naïve and given the situation they'd been in, she could never be left alone. She was not stupid, oh no. Miyuki was just young, oblivious and acted her age. Just how she should be.

They may be twins, but in a manner of different respects they were very far apart. They were kind, both with bond deeper than anyone who wasn't a twin could never fathom. There was never any chance of betrayal, never any chance of hatred. They best friends, and one thing would forever stay the same in their relationship: no matter what, they would always be there for each other, and feel the other's pain as acutely as if it were theirs, so they would never abandon each other.

So they could never forget each other. Few were ever lucky enough to find that kind of trust.

Sasuke noticed Haruki lost in thought, and sensed the heavy awkwardness of the boy's position. For what reason the boy's demeanour had changed so rapidly, Sasuke wasn't sure, but he already knew this was awkward enough as it is, and he wanted it over and done with.

"Is she always like that?" He asked, breaking their thick silence. Silence could be deafening thing, and Sasuke didn't want it ringing in his ears afterwards.

Haruki blinked for a second. "Who… Miyuki?"

Sasuke nodded.

Haruki narrowed his eyes slightly and thought about his answer. "Yes… she is like that most of the time," He paused, and added afterwards as Sasuke chuckled slightly. "Why?"

"You're not at all alike, are you?" Sasuke smiled meekly, happy he'd manage to throw the child off guard and crack a hole through the mask. The boy was impatient.

"Not really, no," Haruki replied dryly.

_You're both impatient. _Sasuke thought, eyes staring through the windows. _Just like Itachi and I used to be._

"At least one of us has to have some common sense," The boy said, suddenly sounding quite tired, although Sasuke could gauge nothing from his expression to prove it.

Haruki watched the treacherous weather beyond the glass as blankly as if he were not fully conscious, as if it was merely there and he was merely there. As if it and all this was just one big inconsequential coincidence, nothing to be scared of or startled by.

_That boy takes some beating._ Sasuke was impressed by boy's deliberate blankness and pondered about his true feelings. From that, he decided not to verbally pound the child with the thoughts and regrets he'd felt ever since meeting him. It was hard to believe how much pain could be culminated in such a short length of time, but there you go. There was too much to be said right now, and it was never his intention to bombard the child with a multitude of thoughts and feelings.

Sasuke sighed deeply, closing his stinging eyes for second before making ready to amble resolutely towards the kitchen to face Sakura. He seemed to need the doorframe for more support than any shinobi of his age and level should ever need. He stepped half-way out the door before stopping abruptly in his tracks. The slither of a smooth, child-like voice reached his ears once again, but he failed to decipher the words above the thunderous rain. The voice understood, and repeated.

"Don't say anything to Miyuki," Haruki said quietly, his gaze still fixated on tumbling rain outside.

Sasuke twisted his head to the side. The boy was paled and more unemotional than ever before. Or maybe that's the effect the lighting had at this angle?

"Don't say a word of what I know to Miyuki, and make sure no one else lets anything slip… she's not like me,"

The command, as unemotional as it seemed, was a powerful one and Sasuke understood the enormity of at once.

He too was quite talented at reading people. Now, was reading Haruki going to be for fun or a necessity? He wondered and left the room.

* * *

Done. Thank for reading- I know it was very waffly, so thank you, thank you, thank you!

Now please be even more wonderful and review.

Amser x.


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